


Quotable

by surrenderdammit



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Banter, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 22:50:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14223498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surrenderdammit/pseuds/surrenderdammit
Summary: Harvey sighs. “Alright, Mike. You’ve been caring at me all fucking day. Get it out of your system already.”





	Quotable

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this prompt by anon: "prompt: harvey and mike are doing their usual bantering thing but then harvey screws up a quote he's trying to drop (like makes some really obvious and noticeable error) and mike can't help teasing him about it incessantly but also very badly needs to figure out what's going on that made harvey make such a dumb mistake"
> 
> Not entirely in the spirit of the prompt but I tried lol.

 

oOo

 

Mike can't stop grinning. “Did you really just tell our client he's going to make them an offer they can't refuse?”

They’ve just come out of a meeting with Sean Miller, who is being sued by his business partner. They're two white, rich men pissing in each other's sandboxes and Mike only cares to win the case because it's _Harvey's_ case, not because he feels inclined to help either of the entitled bastards. Dealing with them is a headache, nevermind the opposing counsel who seems to have it out for Harvey in particular.

“Yes,” Harvey replies, ushering Mike into his office. “I’ll have you know the Godfather is very quotable on a day-to-day basis.”

Sitting down on the couch, Mike leans back and watches Harvey unbutton his suit jacket as he walks over to his records.

“I bet you live by it, huh? _The lawyer with the briefcase can steal more money than the man with the gun,_  am I right?” Mike says as Harvey picks a sleeve and puts it on, the soft notes of jazz filling the room. For a moment, Harvey closes his eyes and listens to the opening notes, before he goes to pour himself a drink.

“That and _Never hate your enemies. It affects your judgment,”_ Harvey comments idly, sitting down by his desk and kicking back, putting his feet up. “Words to live by.”

Mike rolls his eyes. “Yeah, someone should tell that to Wilkinson, he seems to really hate you. You know him from before?”

Taking a sip of whiskey, Harvey looks out the window with a frown. “Yeah. We went to Harvard together. I think he's still sore about the fact that I beat his ass.”

“Dude, that's like, _decades_ ago,” Mike says with a smirk, stretching out his arms along the back of the couch. He loves the twitch Harvey gets in his eye whenever Mike takes a dig at his age. “Isn't it time to let that shit go?”

“I guess he has been - and always shall be - my enemy,” Harvey drawls and that throws Mike off, a bit. It's an obvious misquotation used to further their banter, but it's the way he says it that sets off Mike’s mental klaxon. Harvey _never_ bastardize _Star Trek_ quotes, and he sounds...bitter. Bitter and resigned. Mike sees it now, in the way Harvey sits like he's relaxed, but has his shoulders set in a tense, uncomfortable line.

Mike’s instant reaction is to press, to call Harvey out on it. He’s on Red Alert, but he forces himself to hold off. This isn't the time, Mike has learned. It's better when they're home, at Harvey's place, and Harvey has his shoes off and his vest unbuttoned. For now, Harvey will listen to his record and drink his drink, and Mike will distract him with pointless banter until they have to get back at work.

But later. Later he’ll find out what put that look of frustrated resentment in Harvey's eyes.

 

oOo

 

Harvey sighs. “Alright, Mike. You’ve been caring at me all fucking day. Get it out of your system already.”

They're lounging on Harvey's couch, watching some documentary about birds, and Mike’s found himself staring intently at the side of Harvey's face every few minutes as he tries to think of the best way to start this conversation.

As usual, Harvey beats him to it. The fucker always has to have the upper hand, Mike thinks with way more fondness than this particular trait of Harvey's deserves. But for once it actually benefits Mike, so he rolls with it.

“Meeting Wilkinson really rattled you today,” Mike begins, holding his hand up when he sees Harvey getting ready to make a snide comment. “No, for real, Harvey. It bothered you. So what's the deal? Are you ok?”

“Urgh, _feelings,_ ” Harvey groans, flopping down to bury his head in Mike's lap. Bemused, Mike allows it, carding his fingers through Harvey's stiff hair, displacing it. “Why, Mike? Why can't we be manly men who never talk about their feelings?”

Rolling his eyes, Mike doesn't really try to stifle his grin. “Because we're working on that whole emotionally constipated part? To become healthy and well-adjusted sometime _before_ we’re ninety? I don't know, Harvey, take a pick.”

Harvey groans again, long-suffering and overly dramatic, because he's a dick but Mike loves that about him, for some goddamn reason. “Fiiiiiine.”

For a moment, Harvey is silent, and Mike waits him out. It's better to let Harvey take his time, because if you push him too hard, he feels backed into a corner. Which is the last thing Mike wants, right now.

“We were together, for a hot second,” Harvey begins, voice neutral and careful. Mike can't see much of his face, because he's facing the TV, cheek pressed into Mike’s thigh. “It was the early nineties, so we were both firmly in the closet. It was a difficult time, and I guess that contributed to how things ended between us. It was ugly, Mike. I'm not proud of how things went down. He’s got every right to hate me because I was an asshole, but so was he. Today, he just reminded me of a really crap time in my life. He brought back a few unpleasant memories and it just threw me off. You can stop worrying now.”

There's more to this story, Mike knows, but he lets it go for now. Instead, he plays with Harvey's hair and leans down to place a kiss to his cheek. “I'm sorry, Harvey. Want me to give him the evil eye next time we see him? I’ll throw him all the shade, distract him with my excellent Asshole Act as perfected by Harvey Specter himself. He won't know what hit him once I break out the sass, he’ll be _shook_.”

Harvey rolls over onto his back to look up at him, a frown on his face trying to disguise the way he is eyes are crinkling in a smile. “Please, for the love of God, stop talking like a Buzzfeed article. I'm already conflicted about fucking a man-child, I don't need any reminders that you're barely an adult.”

“Oooh, _burn,_ old man,” Mike replies with a grin, laughing when Harvey hooks a hand behind Mike’s neck to drag him down for a biting kiss.

“Shut up,” Harvey murmurs against his lips and Mike is more than happy to oblige. It's a sweet distraction that Mike is very willing to provide for the moment, getting lost in the soft, wet heat of Harvey's mouth. It's only when the position of sitting hunched over Harvey in his lap starts to get uncomfortable that Mike breaks it off.

He’s panting, a bit, and his lips feel swollen. His skin is hot from beard burn, and Harvey is looking at him like he can't wait to have him naked, and it's like a punch to the gut.

“Bed?” Mike wonders a bit breathlessly, wincing at the hopeful and eager tone of his voice. Harvey just chuckles, running a thumb over Mike’s bottom lip, finally looking like he's relaxed and happy. The bitterness is gone, replaced with a confident smirk and a fond glint in his eyes.

“Always so eager,” Harvey murmurs, sitting up and pressing a chaste kiss to Mike's lips before he's off the couch and dragging Mike with him. “C’mon then, babe.”

Things clearly aren't resolved, and they'll probably have another talk about this, but for now… Mike lets himself get dragged along, laughing when Harvey pushes him onto the bed and Mike bounces on the crazy-ass, expensive mattress. Harvey growls playfully before he pounces, and Mike loves this man. It hits him hard, sometimes.

“I love you,” he whispers into Harvey's kiss, moaning when it makes Harvey grab his hips and grind into him, hard. _Fuck._

It derails from there. By the end of it, Mike's exhausted and Harvey is being a smug bastard, laughing at the way Mike groans when he gets rolled over to be cleaned with a damp cloth. He’s ready to just drop off into sleep, and sighs contentedly when Harvey spoons up behind him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

“Thank you,” Harvey murmurs, quiet and sincere. Mike takes a hold of Harvey's hand, squeezing it and putting it up against his heart.

“I have been - and always shall be - your friend,” Mike mumbles, tired and a little bit cheeky. He gets a bite to his shoulder for his efforts, and he yelps at the short sting of pain.

“Tone down the sass, Missy,” Harvey grumbles, but Mike can feel him press his smile into his back. Mike snorts, but settles down to sleep, making a mental note to keep a close eye on Harvey until this case gets resolved. He’s got a feeling Harvey will talk to him again, but probably not until Wilkinson has walked away.

That's fine, though. In the meanwhile, he’ll just make sure Harvey's six is covered.

  
  
oOo


End file.
